Touches
by QuiteQuiet
Summary: Yang has another night with Neo after their reunion. The two are content with each other, but Yang's sudden reappearance nags at Neo, and she wonders what happened in the time Yang was gone. [Baked Alaska one-shot, ex-villain Neo AU]


_**Author's Note**__**: Hey all, welcome back to the dumpster with my latest Baked Alaska fic.**_

**_This is a snippet from a much longer_ RWBY_ story I plan on writing in the future. Yang is probably going to be at least 20 by this point, and I hope that and the general atmosphere help explain the OOC context. Even so, it's the first smutfic I've written that I'm satisfied with._  
**

**_So, Baked Alaska shippers. Enjoy._**

**_UPDATE 2/26: I made some minor changes, to better warrant his being something I'm proud of._**

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Her fingers move deftly, raising the temperature of the already heated room. A dressing screen between door and bed brings temporary cover from anyone who might wander inside. It is unlikely, but a nice sentiment for the risky lives of an ex-criminal and her Huntress.

Neo continues to roam, petting chest and neck. The fabric of one glove rests on her partner's shoulders as the other runs through her hair, starting at the scalp and moving down to brush the outline of her ear. Despite herself, she groans. "Neo," she says.

Neo feels her hips shift as Yang convulses. It's slow, pleased. Yang is sitting up, palms digging into the mattress. Neo is on her with her knees around Yang's sides, their laps only separated by the rumples of two sheets. Yang is breathing very heavily, trying to contain herself.

"Neo."

Night has fallen. Their hands find each other. Neo feels the soft pulses inside Yang's wrists, something normally not possible due to her gauntlets. They are on the end table by the lamp while Neo's parasol lies on the floor. All can be easily reached in an emergency, but for now it's the two of them alone, and Yang is half-bare, and her head is bent as she clutches the mattress with shaking fingers.

"_Neo_."

Neo leans forward to kiss Yang on the neck. The tenseness releases as Yang arches back, an exhale parting from her lips. Neo feels the golden tresses falling around her and cradles her shoulder under Yang's chin. Another moan comes, and though they've just started, a large bead of sweat forms on Yang's neck.

Neo leans back after trailing blond bangs in her fingers. She looks at what she's done. Yang's mouth is open, the skin below her collarbone rising in contention and apprehension. Neo contemplates this before pulling away from Yang completely. Yang tilts her head up, eyes opening sleepily.

The jacket comes off like snakeskin, piling on top of Yang's on the floor. Neo moves to the belt next, unhitching it with a tiny clink. It slides away and then Neo sheds the rest. Yang's breathing has become hoarse. She wiggles, making Neo lift. A second later she gets off Yang's lap and pulls down the covers, watching as she peels Yang's shorts from her legs.

The clothes hit the floor with a bit of a rattle, Yang's things buried under Neo's. Neo looks at the heap, and then at Yang exposed beneath her. Yang is acting reflexively now, hooking her arms around Neo and dragging her into the bed.

"Neo," she says. "More."

She is on top now, and Neo shakes loose from the embrace. Yang frowns at the loss, patting around on the mattress. Neo's hands grip her shoulders, a bit more roughly this time. Yang's eyes crack open.

They widen fully at the sight of Neo's knees sinking beside her. Neo is holding the sleeve of a glove, and when she's sure she has her audience, she pulls it off. It's a fluid movement, one after the other, and though Yang has seen her this way many times, she cannot help but shudder at the sight. Neo is rarely gloveless in company, and to see it here lets Yang know this is real.

Neo's hands are slim, ladylike. The nails are finely kept, and revealing them to Yang is a bonding of its own. Yang, who traveled to many places and saw many people, found Neo again, and alone they discovered a growing sense of permanence. Neo had wondered about Yang after seeing her stumble into the city those couple months back. Later that night she'd seen a bruise on her leg, but Yang had said it was nothing. Then she'd turned off her scroll before they settled into bed.

In this bed Neo bends, running a hand down Yang's spine. Yang moves along with it, goosebumps rising. Neo's gloves are in her other hand, but she doesn't put them on the floor. She places them on the table beside Yang's gauntlets. She returns to the blond, hovering above her; it is this time that they grin at each other, and with a blink the colors of Neo's eyes change places. Yang turns over and they meld together.

They explore each other as experienced lovers, neither wasting time with guesses or blunders. Any pause is brief and meaningful, a shift to accommodate their growing pleasure. Yang's pants cut through the air. Neo is silent as always, but her chest expands with breath, and in the moments Yang has control, the shivers rock all the way through her core.

They hit the bed, Yang's hand around Neo's wrist. Neo has surrendered, bucking wildly. Yang curves her hand up and their fingers fold, Neo's so slim and delicate in comparison. Her other hand slaps for the drawer and she gives Yang a toy. When it enters her they both jolt, Yang growling lightly as it sinks in. She thrusts a few times and then they're done, a final groan choking from Yang before she crumples. Neo smirks, satisfied at a night well spent.

Their arms twine around each other. Neo observes the crease in Yang's eyebrows disappearing as they relax. A moment later she pulls herself out and Yang rolls over, an arm dangling off the sheets.

Neo removes the toy and washes it in the bathroom sink. When she comes back Yang has gone limp. She is vulnerable, twisted and nude like a statue. Neo climbs into the bed, not sure if Yang is awake. She finds out when Yang's arm moves from the pillow to bring Neo close. The sheets are crumpled in waves over her feet. Neo lifts them up and they settle under. A moment later something buzzes.

"Don't answer it." Yang's voice is a rumble, low and throaty. Neo glances at her, and realizes the noise is from Yang's scroll. She lowers back down, letting Yang close in around her.

Later she ducks from Yang's hold and goes to their clothes, feeling around the pile until she pulls Yang's scroll from the shorts. The device glows brightly and she cringes, but Yang's back is turned. Neo's eyes flick to the screen and she starts tapping. Two more calls had been made in the time they were asleep, both from the same number. Neo clicks to the see the bust of a black-haired girl with impassive yellow eyes, a large bow tied neatly on the top of her head. Neo checks the name, but oddly it says _Nightshade._

She scores a finger to the right, spinning through Yang's history. Most of her missed calls are from Nightshade as well as two others. One is a girl looking slightly younger, streaks of red shot through the tips of her hair. Her label is _Sis_. The other Neo recognizes instantly. Who from her past would not put a name to that ghostly white face, the silver tiara crooking into the beginning of her ponytail? Clearly Yang knows there's no use trying to hide her, as her contact label is _Weiss_.

Neo looks at Yang curiously, then tucks the scroll back into Yang's pocket. She returns to bed, where unconsciously Yang welcomes her. Neo's fingers trail along Yang another time, tracing over scars old and new. Yang rustles in her sleep, and her palm droops over the small of Neo's back. The welt is small and barely noticeable, and Yang's fingertips brush lightly over it. It's only a bump, now, after so much time to heal, but Neo stiffens at the reminder, and once again her irises switch.

In the morning she makes breakfast, checking the window blinds to make sure no one is there.


End file.
